


Small Time Hero

by NHarmonic



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Bucky Barnes Feels, No killing on his watch!, bucky's retired, supportive Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8160205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NHarmonic/pseuds/NHarmonic
Summary: Summary: Everyone had various thoughts on Bucky no longer being in the field. Steve was worried. Tony was still reluctant, and secretly angry. The others afraid. Natasha, of course, knew what was really going on.





	

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Full disclosure; I got this idea from a ‘Headcanon’ picture on Pinterest and I loved it. I think there are two sides to what Bucky can become after he’s free and finds his state of mind; become an Avenger, or retire. For this story, I chose the retire route, or at least, long-term break.
> 
> This is Post-Winter Soldier, and Civil War doesn’t exist. I’m writing this as though everyone’s cool with each other. No AntMan, twins, or Vision. Just Avengers+Sam and Bucky. PS: I can’t begin to really write what happens to America’s finest when they’re forgotten by the system. I can only guess.
> 
> I’m also getting a feeling this could become a drabble thing. No promises but if you think I should- well, maybe I will *shrugs*. Kindness comes in many forms so please, share your ideas of random acts and I’ll try to use them.

Small Time Hero

~?~?~?~

“You have a VA meeting today, right Bucky?” Steve asked, eating a spoonful of cereal.

“Ah,” Bucky replied, too early for words, as he packed some sandwiches in his lunchbox.

It’s been nine months since Bucky was found in the slums of Vancouver, Canada; half-dead and beaten within an inch of his life. Brought back to D.C., SHIELD took him in, one of many favors they owed Steve, to treat the Winter Soldier physically and mentally. Now, the man lived on the same floor as Steve, within the Avengers Tower. Bucky was better, and yet, despite his abilities, he stayed ‘safe’, never partaking in any fights with the other Avengers. Yes, Bucky left the tower, but never to fight.

“We’re doing some team training later; at three I think,” Steve continued, “Your meeting should be done by then right? Wanna join us?”

“No thanks,” Bucky said, not looking at his friend as he hefted his bag onto his shoulder. “I’m gonna be gone all day.”

Steve frowned. “Okay Buck, have a good day,” he said sincerely.

Bucky raised a single hand in goodbye as he walked out the kitchen, nodding at Natasha as she walked in. There was silence, until Bucky was gone, signaled by the door closing.

“I’m worried about him,” Steve said quietly. “He doesn’t want to do anything anymore… Isn’t that… I mean-.”

“Bucky’s fine,” Natasha said a small smile on her face. “He may not do what he ‘used’ to, but he’s doing something.”

~?~?~?~

Bucky was silent as he walked down the street towards the church, where his VA meeting was held, which was two blocks away from shrink’s office in case Bucky needed someone talk to. It was the perfect set-up. Bucky went to a meeting every other day and spoke to his psychiatrist every Monday or on the phone whenever he liked. It was nice, though not all of his meetings were official.

“Buchanan!” a man called out, grinning and waving.

Bucky smiled slightly, turning to the alley where he was called from. Easing himself up from the ground was a homeless man, scruffy and dirty, but smiling.

“BobbyD,” Bucky greeted and shook the man’s hand in greeting. “How are you?”

BobbyD and Bucky both took a seat, Bucky pulling his bag off. “I'm blessed Buchanan,” the man replied, “I’m healthy and alive. No rain this week. God’s been good.”

Bucky smiled, this was something he liked about his homeless friend. BobbyD’s real name was once Robert Davidson, a veteran from the Gulf War. Back from the war, BobbyD’s was one of the men who fell through the cracks. PTSD and a bad shoulder put BobbyD in a bad place, and then the streets. Just last year, the vet found God, after helping a man, who turned out to be a bishop. Many times BobbyD was offered jobs or a place to stay, but instead, he chose to live in the alley, living happier there than he had anywhere else. Ever since meeting the man, and having his mind back, more than once has Bucky considered living like BobbyD. 

“Want a sandwich?” Bucky asked, pulling out a thick corned-beef sandwich, as well as an apple and water.

“You do me good too Buke,” BobbyD grinned, taking the food.

“Will you pray?” Bucky asked, taking out his own sandwich; he found it so interesting to watch the other man pray.

“You know I will,” BobbyD replied, “Join me?”

“I’ll listen,” Bucky promised, unconsciously bowing his head slightly.

“All I ask,” BobbyD said, then bowed his head. “Heavenly Father, I thank You for this meal, and for Buchanan, who is my dearest friend. I ask that You watch over me, and for You to please take care of Buke, wherever his life may go. Amen.”

“Amen,” Bucky breathed quietly, then made himself comfortable. “Dig in.”

“Dig in,” BobbyD chuckled in agreement.

~?~?~?~

“So what’s been on your mind lately Buchanan?” BobbyD asked, hands in his pockets.

Having finished brunch, the two veterans were walking down the busy streets of Manhattan.

Bucky nibbled on his thumbnail, a habit he seemed to have picked up again. “I’m not sure Bobby,” he replied, “Talking has been helping, and hearing what others have experienced, but… Emotions, or I mean-.”

“I know what you mean partner,” BobbyD replied somberly, looking at the skyline. “You turn off your emotions so you don’t have to feel it while you’re fighting. You come back and you forget how to turn them again. Sometimes you wonder if you even had any to begin with.”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, unconsciously rubbing his sleeved metal arm.

BobbyD watched the movement. “I’ve given this country a lot and I don’t regret it,” he said, then looked at Bucky’s eyes, “But you-. I know you’ve given this country a lot more.”

Once again Bucky was struck with that idea that BobbyD knew. The media and America knew of the Winter Soldier, and that the assassin was pardoned after a long and extensive trial, but his face was never given; no one ever saw the Soldier’s face except for the legal people and jury, who were all sworn into secrecy. But if BobbyD did know who he was, why didn’t he say anything? Bucky decided to change the subject.

“My friend- Steve is his name- Steve wants me to… go out more,” Bucky said, choosing his words carefully. “To work with more people… I guess…”

“And why don’t you?” BobbyD asked, allowing the change. “I mean, a homeless bum like me is great and all but maybe you need more friends.”

“I think he wants me to forgive,” Bucky said quietly, “I can’t explain it, but the people I’d be working with, making friend with, they’re involved in the bigger picture.”

“The one you left behind?” BobbyD asked; they’ve had this talk before, about the ‘bigger picture’. “Why not forgive? Jesus tells us to forgive infinitely. Maybe forgiving is what you need.”

“Because they left me behind Bobby,” Bucky said quietly; they stopped and sat down on a bench. “Did I ever tell you what happened to me, Bobby?”

“I can guess,” BobbyD replied, just as quiet.

Bucky took a deep breath. “I was choking on my own blood, in a country that wasn’t my own; alone,” Bucky began. “Some foreign government took me and told me I was useless to my own government. One arm short, dying; America would leave me, but I should be happy. I was useless but they would make me useful again. I was the shiny new toy.”

Bucky looked at the sky, lost in his thoughts. “I fought at first. There was no way I’d been left behind. Someone would come for me. Steve would come for me,” Bucky looked at the road. “No one did. It's all a blur. I was a POW that everyone thought had died in action and then suddenly I’m here again… How can I forgive and forget that BobbyD?”

“I think the world has done you many injustices Buke,” BobbyD agreed. “But holding onto it; you have to let go. Maybe not all at once, but little by little, and with the people you love. Soon, I think it’ll all wear away, until finally, the weight’s all gone.”

Bucky said nothing.

“And I think you should start by being honest with that friend of yours,” BobbyD finished.

~?~?~?~

It was late in the evening when Bucky finally returned to the apartment. He half expected, and kind of hoped, that Steve would still be out, training with the team, but instead, the super-soldier was sitting on the balcony. Bucky walked, his footsteps silent, to join his friend; the sunset washing his body in yellow and orange. When he reached the door, Bucky knocked, announcing his presence; Steve didn’t jump, merely glancing over his shoulder. 

Steve smiled. “Hey Buck,” he said, and patted the space near him. “Come join me.”

Bucky complied, sitting more tensely than Steve, who was leaning back on his arms, basking in the sun. Nothing was said, they just sat there, watching the sun sink below the horizon, just as they did over seventy years ago. The sun was still the same, despite all the time.

“I think I’m going to lead my life as a pacifist now. Or at least, something like that,” Bucky finally announced, not looking at Steve. “Killing it easy, so I think I should try for something harder.”

“Is that what's been eating at you?” Steve asked. “Bucky, I don’t care what you decide to do with your life. It’s yours, and you should decide what to do with it.”

Steve put his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, resting over the numb scar tissue; Bucky allowed himself to lean into his friend’s side. “I don’t know what I’ll do, but I know I won’t be the weapon anymore. Whether or not the good side holds my trigger or not.”

“There’s no good side when it comes to a weapon Bucky,” Steve said quietly. “But I promise to do what I must so you’ll never be fired again.”

“Or become rusty,” Bucky finally grinned, elbowing Steve. “I think I’ll take you up on that spar. Tomorrow morning.”

“If you can wake up that early,” Steve teased, punching his friend’s shoulder.

“Shut it punk.”

“Jerk.”

End.

**Author's Note:**

> And there it is. I wanted to write. I had this prompt hidden away. Said ‘Why not?’ Wrote a story. Now that I finished it, I think I may post a few more chapters of Bucky doing acts of kindness. I didn’t really get a chance with the first chapter. Don’t get your hopes too high though please. I don’t write as much as I used to but I’ll try my best.
> 
> Till next time,
> 
> Ja ne~!


End file.
